


in retrospect

by johnnylovebot



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Angst, Break Up, Engagement, Excessive use of the word fuck, Friends to Lovers, Heartbreak, JohnDo baby, Just very sad, Lovers to Friends, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Not Beta Read, Panic Attacks, Post-Break Up, Sad, Slice of Life, t rated for cursing and swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-08
Updated: 2020-07-08
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:02:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25150576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/johnnylovebot/pseuds/johnnylovebot
Summary: Soon, he’ll be called to make a short speech, because he’s Doyoung’s best friend after all, andjesus fuckhe should really be happy for him but humans are selfish and Johnny knows he’s fucking horrible for this, but he wishes that just this once, he’s never known a life with Doyoung.(The last part is only half true because Johnny cant even begin to imagine the past seven years without Doyoung by his side butfucking hellif he knew that there was going to be a lifeafterDoyoung.)
Relationships: Jung Yoonoh | Jaehyun/Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Suh Youngho | Johnny
Comments: 15
Kudos: 80





	in retrospect

The tux he’s wearing is way too tight at the neck. Or actually maybe not. It was custom-fitted and it was fine before the ceremony started so yeah, maybe the problem is not in the tux.

Maybe it's really all just him.

His hands are sweating like there’s a free flowing faucet attached to his palms and his mouth is dry and he feels itchy every-fucking-where and his fingertips are tingling, he’s having a bit of difficulty breathing and there is a forming migraine in his head.

Yeah. It’s  _ definitely _ all him.

He wills himself to calm down. Tries to remember the grounding techniques his therapist told him.

He looks for five things he can see around him—the table, the half-empty glass of water, the silver fork, the china plate, and his best friend with his fiance chatting up some friend of theirs. His chest hurts.

Four things he can touch—-the smooth tablecloth, the ground beneath him, his too-much-gelled hair, the chair he’s sitting in, but definitely, _ definitely _ , not his best friend's heart. Not anymore.

Then there’s three things he can hear—the smooth jazz music playing somewhere in the background, the shrill pitch of that way too chatty woman on the next table over, and the sound of his heart breaking into a million pieces yet again. 

The last one doesn’t really count so he tries again. 

Ah, the smooth, melodious laughter Doyoung just did, probably when his stupid perfect fiance with his stupidly perfect dimpled smile and deep fucking baritone voice made another joke.

Two things you can smell—he can smell Taeyong’s mild rose perfume from beside him, and fuck, maybe if he tries hard enough he’ll be able to smell Doyoung’s hand cream on his tux—always  _ always  _ green apple and salted fucking caramel—because that smell always lingers and it is so inherently Doyoung now that Johnny has memorized the smell from years and years of being around him (its the same hand cream he’s been using ever since they first met).

He looks for one thing he can taste. 

The fucking metallic bitter taste of regret, he thinks.

Wait no, that doesn’t count. Uh, the water in his glass?

He’s calmed enough now and can finally breathe properly (his palms are still way too fucking sweaty though and there is still a deep well that has carved itself in his chest that he feels so fucking hollow but hey, at least he doesn't feel like he is being asphyxiated to death). There is a mantra in his head, the phrase  _ do not fuck this up for Doyoung  _ in a resounding loop, like a faulty CD that just gets more and more annoying the longer it goes.

Soon, he’ll be called to make a short speech, because he’s Doyoung’s best friend after all, and  _ jesus fuck _ he should really be happy for him but humans are selfish and Johnny knows he’s fucking horrible for this, but he wishes that just this once, he’s never known a life with Doyoung.

(The last part is only half true because Johnny cant even begin to imagine the past seven years without Doyoung by his side but _ fucking hell  _ if he knew that there was going to be a life  _ after  _ Doyoung.)

It’s a horrible thought, Johnny knows, he fucking knows, but _god,_ it hurts, he feels like he’s being pulled taut in all directions and he’s ripping apart, bones disjointing, skin and muscles tearing all at once and _oh_ _god_ , _its_ _too much pain, remember how to breathe,_ so Johnny allows himself to be selfish just this once.

Because Johnny,  _ good ol’ Johnny _ , wants, and wants and wants and _ wants _ but the world is unfair and life is shit and fuck, the earth is dying, there’s literally nothing left good in this world, so why not add an on-going five year long heartbreak on top of that?

From where he’s sitting he glances at Doyoung, and he's smiling so happily that Johnny can even see his gums from here. This should be a happy day, and it is–it really is if you are not Johnny because for Johnny, it's just the universe telling him to bugger off and move on already(he flashes his middle finger back to the universe as a response). 

He thinks back to all their years spent together, from the first time they met, and to all the other moments they shared, big or small, that led to this specific moment–Doyoung, about to get married, and Johnny, miserable at his best friend’s engagement party–and he wonders.

Wonders where it all went wrong. Wonders where, in the trajectory of their relationship, JohnDo became Johnny / and / Doyoung, complete with spaces in between.

He wonders when Doyoung started a life without him, wonders how it was possible for him, when Johnny is still there, alone and left behind, stuck in the same place 5 years ago, his metaphorical feet never moving as the world continues to revolve around him.

He needs a drink. Or three.

\---

  
  


Like most things with Doyoung, as Johnny has come to realize, falling in love comes easy. 

Being in love with Doyoung, that’s the hard part.

He remembers the first time they met. 

Johnny, a transferee, sits beside a shy looking guy with milky skin, big eyes behind round rimmed glasses. The boy is quiet, just furiously doodling on his notebook as the clock on the front ticks and the class waits for their homeroom adviser.

When he does appear, the boy besides him starts mumbling to himself and Johnny really wants to know what he’s saying, but the teacher in the front is proving it difficult. He’s saying something about filling up a form and some other news for the start of the school year. He doesn’t really pay attention.

When everyone has their form, they silently fill it up, or as silently as one can get when Johnny has a mumbling seatmate. This time though, he finally makes out what he’s saying.

“Please please please please don’t do introductions,” glasses boy is mumbling repeatedly.

Johnny finds it quite endearing.

After filling it up, they pass the forms to the front and their teacher speaks up.

“We have three new transferees here today. For their sake, how about you guys stand up, just in your place, and give a quick introduction of yourselves.”

Johnny’s seatmate starts hitting his head on his desk lightly.

“Fuck-”  _ Bump. “-ing _ ” Bump. “ _ Shit _ .”  _ Bump. _

Johnny refrains himself from laughing.

What he does instead is put his hand on his seatmate’s desk, acting as a cushion to his poor forehead.

His seatmate opens his eyes when he makes contact with Johnny’s hand instead of the hard plastic of the desk. He whips his head at Johnny. His forehead is now a bit pink.

“We don’t want you getting a concussion on the first day now, do we?” Johnny just says.

A blush creeps up from his seatmate's neck. And he just closes his eyes again, rests his head on the desk (he’s not hitting it repeatedly now, thank god) and just stays like that until it was his turn.

When it’s finally his turn, he lets out a low and long  _ fuuuuuuuck _ under his breath before he stands up.

“Hi,” he says and Johnny notices his hands are shaking. “I’m Doyoung.” 

Johnny slips a pen in his hand so he has something to hold on to. He,  _ Doyoung,  _ instantly grabs it without looking, his knuckles going white from how hard he’s holding it but at least now, he’s shaking less.

“I’m 16 years old.” Deep breath. “I, uh, accelerated one year so I’m kinda young but yeah.” Another deep breath and he finally sits down. He rest his head again, mutters a small “fuck”.

Johnny introduces himself next. Just tells his name, where he was originally from, and his age. When he sits back down, he sees the pen back on his desk. It smells like green apple and salted caramel. His seatmate is still bowing his head down, his eyes closed.

Later, when the introductions have finished, Johnny asks Doyoung quietly, “you good, man?”

“Yes. Thanks,” he says on an exhale.

Ever since then, they just kind of naturally drifted together. Johnny and Doyoung just click together as naturally as two fitting puzzle pieces.

Doyoung as it turns out, is actually  _ very _ talkative. He’s not a fan of public speaking, as evident from their first day, but when it's just them? He  _ rarely _ shuts up.

And honestly, Johnny would’ve been annoyed if it just weren’t so  _ endearing,  _ and if we’re being perfectly candid here, there’s something in Doyoung that just draws him in. He talks animatedly, his hands doing lots of gestures, his eyes going wide, his stories always accompanied with his own sound effects. And there’s this thing he does, wherein he laughs first before telling his story and Johnny has to wait for him to calm down to actually decipher anything he’s saying. 

He finds it cute.

They have many classes together, and for every class, they somehow always sit together. Or more like Doyoung always sits beside him, and Johnny just goes along with it.

Even at lunch, they share a table, alongside the two other transferees—Taeyong and Yuta. The small group slowly became Johnny’s own ragtag group of friends.

But the thing is, there’s something special about Doyoung. 

His laugh is a little brighter than the others for some reason, his smile more enamouring. Johnny’s eyes always seem to single in on him wherever or whenever. Everything Doyoung says, despite his shitty memory, he remembers. His right arm now a permanent resident on Doyoung’s desk with how much he’s always leaning towards him.

The realization hits him one day at their chemistry lab class.

They were assigned partners, and Doyoung, well Doyoung is pretty fucking smart so they’re done with the activity earlier than others. With nothing left to do, Doyoung leans on him and rests his head on his shoulder.

And, see, there should be nothing novel about this. Ever since Doyoung got comfortable, Johnny has instantly realized that Doyoung is one touchy motherfucker. Always hitting him when he laughs, always leaning on him whenever he wants.

It’s  _ fine. _

Except.

Except Johnny’s brain suddenly supplies,  _ if I tilt my head just right, it will be  _ really _ easy to kiss him. _

Johnny’s eyes widen in realization. Heat creeps up his neck, unto his face, and he’s sure he’s as red as the acidic litmus paper on the table. 

“Johnny,” Doyoung whispers, his breath fanning Johnny’s neck.

_ Jesus Christ. _

Johnny breathes in, hard. Smells the fucking handcream Doyoung always uses. Always green apples and caramel..

“Jooooohnnyyyyy,” he’s poking Johnny’s sides now.

“What.” he says, trying with his mighty best to not show any emotion.

“You’re so comfortable, you know that? I can sleep right now.” he says quietly.

“Please don’t, I don’t want to be held accountable if you get detention.”

Doyoung just does a silent “hmmm” and then he’s silent again.

He’s pretty good at self control, if he do say so himself, especially given this huge desire in him to just, I don’t know, push the hair out of Doyoung’s eyes or push his glasses up as it’s already falling, run his hands through Doyoung’s silky black hair.

Instead, Johnny keeps his hands glued to the side.

When the bell rings, Johnny is so relieved he starts thanking a god he doesn’t even believe in.

It just goes downhill from there.

After that life changing epiphany, for some reason, he feels like Doyoung’s become more touchy. Always leaning on him, always some part of his skin on him and it drives Johnny  _ crazy. _

Or maybe he  _ is. _ You know,  _ going crazy _ . Maybe he’s so knee deep in his crush he’s started making shit up. He has asked Taeyong and Yuta if they think Doyoung’s been a little extra touchy lately. They give him a weird look and say no.

_ Fuck Doyoung and his stupidly cute bunny smile and his round rimmed glasses that always goes down and his stupid round eyes with his stupid fucking cheeks and— _

“Hi guys!” Doyoung plops down beside Johnny and suddenly its all,  _ Jesus fuck isn’t he just the cutest I would give everything in the world to hold his hand and kiss his forehead and– _

Johnny just sighs in defeat.

There are times though, where Johnny thinks maybe he’s not that insane. That maybe, it's true. That maybe his best friend is also feeling something _. _

He thinks it when Doyoung starts asking Johnny for burgers after school, just the two of them, no Taeyong and Yuta tagging along.

He thinks it when Doyoung starts drawing patterns on his leg whenever he’s beside Johnny and Johnny doesn’t even have the heart to stop him.

He thinks it when Doyoung has drawn a doodle of him, only him and no one else, and is pleasantly surprised that Doyoung has captured his essence.

He thinks it when he’s almost asleep, his eyes already closed and he’s halfway to dreamland and he feels Doyoung’s hand pushing his hair away, his fingers lingering for far longer than necessary.

He thinks it when Johnny feels a little brave, teases Doyoung how he likes Johnny way too much, and just gets a serious “and what if I do?” from him.

But there’s always this nagging voice in his head telling him to be careful. Reminding him that that is just how Doyoung is as a person—kind, and caring, and loving—and that there’s nothing more.

So Johnny keeps his trap shut, just enjoys it, allows the selfish part of him to just go along with it because he’ll rather have this, whatever this is, than the scary alternative: having no Doyoung in his life at all.

Funny how life works out.

It’s Yuta who first notices—always the most observant in their group.

“You’re in love with Doyoung,” he says after he corners Johnny after class, his tone as if he’s just said the earth is round—plain as day, factual,  _ sure _ .

How can Johnny refute when he’s not even being questioned?

He just sighs. Yuta takes it as a yes.

“What do you plan to do?”

“Nothing. I just wait it out. He doesn’t like me that way and I’m not planning on ruining my friendship with him over something as stupid as feelings.” Johnny says, defeated.

“It’s not stupid, Johnny. Plus how can you be so sure?” Yuta says, his hand running through his hair. It’s beginning to get really long. Johnny likes it on him.

“Sure of what?” Johnny asks.

“You know, that he doesn't have feelings too.”

“I just–I just know. Besides, we’re seniors. Soon, we’ll be graduating and heading off to different colleges. It’s literally just a heartbreak waiting to happen either way.”

“But you’re already having a heartbreak now.” He fucking hates it when Yuta is right.

“It’s fine. Better to get over it now, right?”

Yuta just stares at him, hard. Johnny sometimes wishes Yuta doesn’t have such big, intense eyes. He feels like he’s being stripped bare.

“Just drop it,” Johnny begs. 

Yuta just nods.

“And not a single word of this to anyone, you hear?”

Yuta makes a show of zipping his mouth closed and throwing an imaginary key somewhere.

They start walking back home.

The thing is, though, Johnny, did  _ not _ in fact Get Over It. Quite the contrary actually. Everyday he’s reminded of what’s in front of him but can’t have and there’s a shrapnel buried deep inside his chest, puncturing right through his sternum, and it just digs deeper everyday.

When Christmas break happens, Johnny made a promise to himself that he’ll use that time to get over it. He’s not going to be seeing Doyoung, so maybe then, he’ll get better. Move on a little.

Except fuck whoever said “distance makes the heart grow fonder” or some shit like that because now that they’re apart, even if just for a while, it pains Johnny to no end. 

Johnny has gone back to Northbrook for the holidays, staying with his grandma, and  _ god,  _ he misses his Granny, sure, but he really also just wants to see Doyoung in the flesh.

It also doesn’t help that Doyoung has taken it upon himself to text Johnny every chance he gets, telling all sorts of stories happening back home. Even through digital messaging, Doyoung is just as noisy as he is in real life. The thought makes Johnny smile.

At 11:58 pm on December 31, Johnny receives a facetime call from Doyoung. And Johnny is only a man with weaknesses, so he presses the green button on his screen.

“Hi!” Doyoung says from the other line, a little breathless, his nose and cheeks dusted pink. Johnny supposes he’s outside.

Johnny says hi back.

“I wanted to spend the New Year’s with you, but you’re not here so this should suffice. Thank God for modern technology, am I right?” 

Johnny’s heart stutters. From the screen Doyoung is laughing at his little joke, as if he didn’t just upend Johnny’s world with the words he’s just spoken.

_ I wanted to spend the New Year’s with you. _

_ With you. _

_ With you. _

_ With you. _

The phrase repeats on Johnny’s brain at an incredible speed. He feels a little dizzy.

“-still there?” He at least catches the end of Doyoung’s sentence.

_ Fucking keep it together, man. _

“I asked if you’re still there, you kinda spaced out dude.”

“Oh. Oh yeah, I’m fine, i’m splendid, just fucking  _ excellent.  _ What I wanna know is why on god's green earth are you outside? It's freezing!” Johnny snorts inwardly at his pathetic excuse for a topic change, but it works so he’ll take it.

“The real question is why aren’t  _ you _ outside? It’s New Year’s Johns! You  _ have _ to see the fireworks!” Doyoung says, his excitement palpable, even through the screen.

“‘M lazy.” Johnny says, wills his heart to calm down while doing so.

“That you are. I’ll just show it to you then. You’re so lucky you have me as your friend, Johnny Suh.”

Johnny’s heart breaks into a million pieces yet again.  _ As your friend. _ If only Doyoung knew how it really was.

From the TV, people have begun counting down.

From his phone, a smiling Doyoung is counting down, too.

“-five, four, three, two, one!”

And the audio becomes a cacophony of different fireworks going off all at once and Johnny smiles to himself as he watches Doyoung through the screen, his amazement apparent even through the pixelated facetime call.

“Happy New Year Johnny,” Doyoung says so quietly, it would’ve been impossible to hear with all the noises going off in the background, but alas, Johnny’s developed a built-in Doyoung tunnel vision and tunnel hearing after all the months of endless pining.

“Happy New Year Doyoung,” he says with a smile. Doyoung smiles at him back.

It’s one of the best New Years he’s ever had.

Time after that passes by in a blur of exams, homeworks, finals, last requirements, college acceptance letters, and an everyday battle for Johnny to not blurt out “I’m in love with you” to his dearest best friend.

Before they know it, they’re graduating. They spend the summer looking for an apartment near campus.

They both enter the same university albeit with different courses—Johnny being a film major and Doyoung being a physics major. It's Doyoung who suggests they rent an apartment together. Yuta thinks it's a bad idea. Johnny  _ knows _ it's a bad idea.

He says yes.

They find a small apartment—with 2 bedrooms, one bathroom with a small kitchen and living area—that is within their price range and is a mere 5 minute walk away from the main campus. 2 weeks before classes start, they move in together—their things and clothes contained in boxes, Johnny and Doyoung picking out matching mugs and plates and cutlery and cute furniture in a nearby local shop.

As Doyoung picks out throw pillows to put on the small, second hand couch they bought online, Johnny can’t help but think how domestic it all is. The fire in his heart burns brighter, he feels the third degree burn stinging inside his thoracic.

Johnny powers through though, tells himself to not make it weird, and by the end of the week, they have put the bare apartment into something more... _ them— _ their own little piece of home.

For a while, everything goes well.

They start classes without a hitch. They figured out how to live harmoniously together. Both Johnny and Doyoung are still on top of their classes. Johnny still hasn’t dropped the L-bomb that is sure to wreck everything he’s ever known and gotten familiar with.

So yeah, as Johnny would say it, everything's sailing smoothly.

What Johnny has failed to realize is that things are going  _ way  _ too smoothly _.  _ Something’s bound to happen sooner or later.

It comes in the form of Yuta and Taeyong, both now studying at two different universities, who visit them after a month, Taeyong holding a plastic bag full of tequila bottles and lime, while Yuta is holding a case of beer.

Johnny doesn’t know what time it is already when Taeyong and Yuta finally dozed off on the couch. The world is only a little bit spinning and there is a pleasant buzz running under his skin. He’s on the floor, his back leaning on the couch, long legs stretched out in front of him. Across him is Doyoung, almost in the same position as him, his feet just a centimeter shy from Johnny. He is staring intently at the floor.

Johnny points his toes and nudges Doyoung’s.

“Hi.” Across the quiet, Johnny’s voice stretches out.

Doyoung looks up, blinks a few times, as if he’s only realized Johnny’s with him.

“Oh. Hi, Johnny,” his words are only a little bit stretched out at the end. Tipsy, but not drunk.

“Hi,” Johnny says again, a grin stretching across his lips. He feels a little bit like a sloth, like everything he’s doing is at 0.5 speed. He’s had one too many tequila shots.

Doyoung stares up at the ceiling. Johnny stares at the expanse of Doyoung’s neck—long and delicate and pretty.  _ So so pretty. _

“What’s pretty?” Doyoung asks. He’s probably said it out loud. Huh.

“Your neck.” Johnny says in between a hiccup. His eyelids feel heavy.

“Also your eyes. And your nose. And your mouth. Your hair, too. Looks soft. Wanna-”  _ Hic. _ “-run my fingers through it.”

He’s slurring a little bit. He thinks it’s a little funny so he laughs a little. Doyoung staring at him straight now.

“So, so pretty Doie. So-”  _ Hic. “ _ fucking beautiful.” Johnny’s arms feel a little heavy too. He kinda wants to sleep, but he also wants to talk to his Doie— _ his Doie, _ he likes the sound of that—so he tries his best to stay awake.

“How much have you had, Johns?” Doyoung asks him, tone serious.

“Mmmm, ‘m not remembering.” Johnny watches as Doyoung’s brow furrows. “Doyoungie, are you upset? Why are you upset?”

He hears Doyoung sigh.

Johnny watches as Doyoung slowly stands up and walks towards him. He’s moving like claynimation. Johnny finds it cool, he thought that was only possible in movies.

“I think it’s time you head to bed now, Johnny. Come on, I’ll help you up.” Doyoung offers out his hand.

Doyoung helps him stand up, and he’s only  _ a little _ dizzy when he succeeds with the task at hand. Once he rises to his full height, he realizes how close they are. He can smell green apples and salted caramel. Doyoung’s breath hits the base of his neck and it's so, so,  _ so  _ warm. Johnny can see perfectly the curve of Doyoung’s cheeks, the dip of his lips, the scar just underneath it.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, breathless.

Time feels suspended for a while, Johnny just waiting for an answer, Doyoung looking like he’s about to implode from thinking. 

And then, Doyoung’s voice, quiet but firm, breaks the silence around them.

“Sleep first. We’ll talk tomorrow.” Doyoung says and retreats to his room. 

Johnny makes his way to his own, swaying only a little bit. The moment his head hits the mattress, he’s out cold.

There is an incessant pounding inside his head the morning he wakes up and Johnny kind of wants to fucking scream at the sun for being a little too bright. His mouth feels dry as a land in years of drought and  _ jesus fuck when will the throbbing in his head stop? _

As he stretches out on the bed, he catches sight of the clock. 12:53 pm.There is a glass of water on his bedside table alongside an Advil. 

_ It’s probably left by Doyoung, always the responsible one and–oh  _ fucking  _ hell. _

The memories come flooding back to him like a dam breaking open and Johnny wishes for the ground to swallow him whole.

_ Stupid fucking alcohol and my stupid fucking lack of brain to mouth filter and my stu– _

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Johnny, are you awake?” He can hear Doyoung saying from behind his door.

He groans in response.

“Yuta and Taeyong are about to leave, wanna say goodbye?”

And because Johnny is a good friend, he says yes, even if every fiber of his being is begging him to say no.

The pitiful look Yuta and Taeyong gives him the moment he steps out into the living area mirrors how he feels. They are quick to say their goodbyes and Johnny wishes that wasnt the case because sooner than he wanted to, he and Doyoung are left alone, and suddenly the apartment feels way too small and he feels way too big and the silence that comes after is so fucking heavy on the room it makes Johnny’s skin itch.

“Doyoung,” he says at the same time Doyoung calls out a weak “Johnny.”

“You go first,” he says to Doyoung because a confession of all the repressed feeling he’s had for his best friend over the past year is crawling its way up his throat and he doesn’t trust himself to not let it all out.

“How much do you remember from last night?” Doyoung asks, voice small, and yet somehow, it echoes loud and clear in their tiny apartment.

From where Johnny is standing, he can see how hard Doyoung is gripping the rag he’s using to wipe down the counters. His brain is working at full speed, trying to piece out a somewhat acceptable excuse for what he’s done last night. It's a pitiful mix of stringed out sentences blaming the alcohol and stress and there’s an apology mixed in there somewhere.

“I’m in love with you,” is what he blurts out instead. 

His own confession shocks him but fuck it, cat’s already out the bag so might as well.

“Have been for quite a while now, and fuck, I just,  _ god _ , You’re you and I’m you know,  _ me _ , so it’s fine really. I don’t want to make things weird between us, so you don’t have to say anything, we can just forget this all happened and uh shit I don’t know where I’m going with this but yeah we can just–”

“Johnny,” Doyoung cuts him off and he is thankful because Doyoung’s voice always anchors him to the ground. Except there is an unreadable expression on Doyoung’s face and  _ oh god, everything’s ruined now, isn’t it? _

“Fuck, I made it weird, didn’t I? This is why I never said anything, okay, fuck shit fuck fuck okay, it’s okay, I can move out if you want, I’ll find an apa–”

“Johnny.” Doyoung is in front of him now and he doesn’t know when that happened but when Doyoung lands a steady hand, he finally remembers to breathe again and he inhales a big mouthful of air.

“Johnny, breathe, yeah?”

Johnny can only nod as he tries to find a normal breathing pattern again.

_ In. Out. In. Out. _

“Okay, good. Just keep doing that for me, yeah?”

As he calms himself down, Doyoung is beside him, drawing circles on his back and it helps soothe him. Once he’s okay again, he finds Doyoung’s eyes on him, a small smile on his lips.

“God, we’re so stupid, arent we?” Doyoung asks him and he has no idea what his roommate is talking about so he just stares dumbly. Suddenly, Doyoung lets out a small laugh and then some more, and Johnny feels out the loop.

“Christ Suh, I’ve been pining on you ever since you handed me that pen when I introduced myself.” 

Johnny’s just started to feel normal again and yet there is a new set of chaos suddenly residing in his chest with Doyoung’s words. Doyoung takes his face in his hands and he can smell that fucking handcream again and Doyoung’s hand is warm against his cheek but he is smiling and Doyoung is too.

“You mean that?” Johnny asks, voice a whisper.

Doyoung closes the gap between them, his lips now on Johnny’s, a resounding  _ yes _ being told with no words being spoken.

It's innocent enough for their first kiss, just lips slotting together, but Johnny is tingling all over and when Doyoung pulls back, he is quick to pull him back and kiss him properly this time.

Johnny’s hands find their way towards Doyoung’s nape, and it all escalates from there. Doyoung arches his body towards Johnny as the tip of his tongue prods at Johnny’s lips and Johnny is quick to give him permission. Johnny can taste Doyoung’s sweet coffee as the latter lick into his mouth and he is  _ addicted.  _ They kiss like they want to devour each other, all feelings previously held back now making their way to the surface. 

When they break apart for air, Johnny rests his forehead on Doyoung’s and  _ fuck,  _ Doyoung is looking at him with so much fondness and love and he thinks:  _ This is it. This is my endgame. _

  
  


\---

  
  


Falling in love is easy. Staying in love, that’s the hard part.

  
  


The apartment is eerily quiet when Johnny gets home from a particularly gruelling day—2 major exams, on top of a loaded lecture on this particular course with the professor he absolutely despises and having to deal with a shitty groupmate for this project they’re working on. 

He finds Doyoung on the couch, a bottle of beer in hand, looking at a spot on the floor only he can see.

“Hey,” he says, voice low and quiet. It brings back Doyoung from whatever stupor he was in, his head whipping to look at Johnny, face unreadable. It should unnerve Johnny, but it's become so common these past days it's just another thing he deals with on the daily.

“You’re back late.” A statement, but Johnny knows there is a question behind it—Doyoung is asking for an explanation. There is a sigh he wants to let out, but he holds it in. Being with Doyoung over the past months has been like walking on eggshells—cautious, careful, lest there be a fight. These days, there’s always a fucking fight.

Johnny can give an explanation, tell him why he was late, but Johnny is also tired and drained from the day so he just shrugs and starts making his way to the bedroom. 

“Johnny, what date is it today?” Doyoung asks before he even has the chance to turn open the door knob. This time, he lets out an audible sigh.

“Doyoung, just say what you want to say for Christ’s sake. I’m tired and quite frankly, I’d appreciate it if you be direct for a second and just stop with the fucking mind games.”

“Today is our fucking anniversary, Johnny.”

The silence stretches out between them, threatening to swallow them whole, the only noise being the fan Doyoung was using in the living area. Johnny wants to punch a wall.

“Johnny, is this all still worth it?” Doyoung asks, voice quiet, and Johnny finally looks at him. 

He’s standing now, but never, ever in his life did Johnny see Doyoung look so goddamn small than in the moment. He’s curling in on himself, his eyes trained on the floor, and _fuck_ _how did they even get here?_

They were once happy,  _ god were they happy,  _ but it's been months of non-stop fighting now and Johnny supposes something’s gotta give, sooner or later.

Because fuck, they love each other, they _ know _ that, but relationships take work, but sometimes life gets in the way and they’re both only human and Johnny has a lot of issues he’s not doing his best to work on and Doyoung is stretching himself taut just to meet Johnny and  _ nothing is fucking going the way its supposed to. _

“This is not working anymore,” Doyoung says, and then, a sniffle. He’s crying, Johnny realises now, and fuck he feels like someone stabbed him in the guts and twisted the blade just to make him bleed more.

Johnny remembers their first few months together—all sunshine and ice creams and rainbows. He remembers the giddiness and the butterflies and all the tingly sensations he felt. There were always date nights, and roses, and chocolates and gifts, the works. There were always cute messages and facetimes when they were not together.

Then after the excitement comes the calm. When they started being more comfortable with their own type of quiet. When things started mellowing down and the fire they once felt became more of a warm, always crackling fireplace that always provided solace and comfort. Date nights outside became home cooked dinners and presents started appearing in forms of hugs and kisses on particularly stressful days.

And everything was fine.

Except.

Except Johnny has a lot of insecurities he needs to work on, but he fucking refuses to, like the stubborn and prideful person that he is and its ugly head starts rearing its way into their relationship.

Date nights become cold food forgotten on the table. Sweet messages turn to passive aggressive comments. Then comes the fighting, the tears, the pain. Suddenly, the warmth of the fireplace becomes a roaring fire that fucking burns and destroys. The comfort he once felt upon coming home to Doyoung’s arms becomes a sigh of relief when he goes back to an empty apartment.

“I think we should break-up Johnny.” Doyoung says, his voice breaking at the end.

It’s then that Johnny realizes how this relationship has been tearing them apart.

Because see, love is a wonderful  _ wonderful _ thing, but that in itself is not enough.

When Johnny kisses Doyoung for the last time, he commits to memory how Doyoung’s lips feel against his—soft, and plush, and always just feels _right_. There is no more trace of the sweet taste of Doyoung’s creamy coffee from the first time. All he can taste now is the saltiness of their tears.

\---

Johnny volunteers to move out for Doyoung’s sake but Doyoung just tells him its stupid because their previous selves were dumb and signed a 2 year lease because _they were the best of friends_ so _what could possibly go wrong?_ And the apartment is nice and close to campus so moving out will just be impractical and not ideal for Johnny and fuck Doyoung for always being so considerate, even post-break up.

Doyoung, however, doesn’t come home for a week after the break-up. They agreed to remain friends, because that’s what they were first, before feelings and shit ruined things, and Johnny supposes a world where he is  _ just  _ friends with Doyoung is better than a world where there is  _ no _ Doyoung at all.

Doyoung’s absence in the apartment feels like this:

Johnny waking up late, face puffy from crying himself to sleep. 

Johnny spending a shit ton of money for coffee that he fucking hates because only his Doyo–no,  _ just  _ Doyoung–is the only one who can make his coffee the right way.

Johnny not eating because he comes home to an apartment so quiet and oh so barren that he doesn’t even have the appetite to eat no matter how much he’s worked that morning.

Johnny sitting in the living area, soaking in silence, letting himself feel the heartache, and boy does he feel.

It crawls through his skin, seeps through his bones—a loneliness so cold he feels chills run through his body and it carves out a Doyoung shaped hole in his heart and he wants to fucking scream, because there is a pain deep inside him no amount of alcohol can drown and there is nothing left to do but cry until there are no more tears left and all there is are just dry heaves and the sound of his heart breaking over and over again in this tiny apartment.

When Doyoung does finally return, Johnny squashes the urge to beg on his knees for Doyoung to come back to him, not after all the pain he’s subjected him through, and instead just settles for a curt nod and smile.

It was weird for a while, two best friends relearning how to be best friends again to each other, but they’re JohnDo, always together, a package deal of some sort, and it’s Doyoung, his bestest friend, and things are always easy with Doyoung, so they make it work.

It takes effort from both sides but soon enough, they’re back to being the way they were, if only for the little adjustments made along the way, and as Doyoung has once said, the past can now just be their little inside joke.

And Johnny, _ poor oblivious Johnny, _ thinks that maybe,  _ just maybe _ , Doyoung is actually right and it’s all good and dandy now between them until Doyoung just  _ casually _ announces he’s got a date and there is a heavy anchor in Johnny’s gut and he suddenly feels sick.

But Johnny promised he’ll move on, and he won’t make it weird, so he just smiles through it all, tells Doyoung “congrats dude!” in the cheeriest voice he can muster and thank fuck for being a theatre kid back in middle school because Doyoung believes his act.

He does try his best too to move on. Installs a dating app on his phone and starts chatting up his matches. Goes on dates, even does hook-ups sometimes, but him wanting to stay at home and just watch whatever drama Doyoung is currently even though he never really gets invested into the plot rather than having a new romantic pursuit is very telling of where his heart really lies.

Through it all, Doyoung remains as his usual Doyoung self and is always so supportive, and Johnny tries his best to be just as supportive to his best friend too. It’s just that, sometimes it's a little hard to nurse Doyoung through his heart breaks when Johnny’s own heart is just as broken as his is, if not more.

There is a side of him though, that he’ll never tell anyone, that gets a bit happy when Doyoung tells him his current relationship has turned sour.  _ God, _ it’s fucking horrible, Johnny knows, but he’s only human and every relationship of his roommate that’s gone wrong plants a tiny little seed of hope in Johnny that maybe they really are each other’s endgame.

That is, until Doyoung meets a certain boy with dimples as deep as the ocean and a perfect baritone voice and Johnny can’t even bring it in him to feel joy when Doyoung first cries about Jaehyun.

Because Doyoung is his best friend and he’s known him for years now at this point, can read him like the back of his hand and the way Doyoung lights up when he talks about Jaehyun is just so pure and full of love that Johnny can’t even bring it in him to be selfish. Not when Doyoung looks at Jaehyun like he hung up all the stars for him and most especially, not when Jaehyun looks at Doyoung the same way.

Even if Johnny wants to hate Jaehyun, the dude makes it impossible for him. He’s kind and smart and funny and talented and can even outcook Doyoung so yeah, Johnny accepts Jaehyun with all his heart. 

That doesn’t mean though that it doesn’t hurt, because it does.  _ Like a fucking bitch,  _ if Johnny might add. 

Seeing Doyoung happy with the true love of his life is a double edged sword that plunges straight through his heart, because Johnny will do whatever to keep that smile on Doyoung’s face that he always has when he talks about Jaehyun, but  _ by god _ does it feel like he’s being stabbed repeatedly and violently by the world’s dullest knife—the kind of stabbing that doesn’t slice the skin but fucking punctures and rips through it and hurts like a motherfucker and keeps you bleeding and bleeding and  _ bleeding. _

Sometimes, Johnny wonders if he’s into BDSM because this is a level of masochism he’s never thought he'll suffer through.

  
  


\---

Falling in love, that’s easy.

Being in love, that’s the hard part.

Because being in love means saying yes to Jaehyun when he asks for your permission about his plans of proposing to your best friend, knowing how happy it’ll make him even though you want to vomit the breakfast you’ve had earlier and throw up some more, as if that will rid your heart of feelings for him.

Because being in love means helping Jaehyun with his plans, making the most fool proof proposal ever that you know will leave Doyoung crying but happy,  _ oh so happy, _ that you smile through it all knowing that you’ll spend another night at the pub trying to drown out your sorrows.

Being in love means being there when Jaehyun pops the question and Doyoung says yes, and you’re the one capturing it all because you know how much Doyoung loves capturing memories and you know this is a pivotal one, not just for him, but also for you, and you force yourself to finally,  _ finally _ , move on.

Being in love means saying yes to Doyoung when he asks if you can say a short message on their engagement party because seeing him smile as you agree is just the most beautiful thing in this god awful planet and then going back to your empty, old apartment that you never moved out from, because it holds so many memories of you and Doyoung, even when Doyoung has long moved out to live with Jaehyun.

Falling in love, that’s easy.

Being in love, that’s the hard part.

From the white noise of the chatter around him, the mic feedback slices through and everyone goes silent as Jaehyun adjusts the mic stand. 

“Hi everyone, I hope you’re all having a great time yeah?” Johnny hears Jaehyun say. Doyoung is looking at his fiance the way he used to when they were together, except this time, somehow, he looks brighter.

Jaehyun is making some light jokes in the front, the kind of joke Doyoung loves, and Johnny watches Doyoung’s face light up in laughter. 

_ Pretty. So  _ fucking  _ pretty. _

“And, here to give a short message is Johnny, Doyoung’s best friend for god knows how long. Let's give him a round of applause everyone!” Jaehyun speaks into the mic.

Johnny hears the clapping, but it all fades out when Doyoung turns his head to look at him. Doyoung flashes him a smile so bright Johnny’s chest hurts—the smile that’s all teeth and gums and makes his eyes crinkle to the side and Johnny is in so deep he just wants to run away from it all.

Johnny stands up, ignores the anchor in his gut and flashes the crowd his signature smile. He makes his way to the front. Adjusts the mic stand.

_ For Doyoung _ , he thinks, always  _ for Doyoung. _

“Falling in love is easy, staying in love–that’s the hard part,” Johnny begins his speech.

From where he is standing, he can see Doyoung smiling, as he holds his fiance's hands. Johnny is shaking and clutching the notecard so hard they start crumpling on the edges.

He takes a deep breath.

_ One. _

_ Two. _

_ Three. _

He flashes another smile, this time, only for Doyoung and Doyoung is smiling and is so so happy and finally,  _ finally _ , he starts to let go.

**Author's Note:**

> hi yes hello this has been sitting in my drafts for quite some time and i only just finished it now
> 
> the main thing that really inspired me for this fic is seeing[ Johnny's picture](https://i.pinimg.com/564x/d9/5a/94/d95a949994deee1c0f7927c597ad6ae5.jpg) and then remembering[ Doyoung's picture](https://data.whicdn.com/images/332626660/original.jpg) and then my mind just chanted angst angst angst so here we are
> 
> some parts of this i kinda borrowed from my own experiences lol hope you enjoyed! <3 <3 <3
> 
> twitter: [@johnnyminnie1](https://twitter.com/johnnyminnie1)  
> cc:[ johnnyloveb0t ](https://curiouscat.qa/johnnyloveb0t)


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